


This Is Difficult For Me To Say

by Anonymous



Category: The Mighty Boosh (TV)
Genre: Getting Together, Humour, M/M, Morning After, Sharing a Room, post-series 3, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-22
Updated: 2017-08-22
Packaged: 2018-12-18 19:12:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11880987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: It looks as though Vince has just disregarded Howard's very existence again, and Howard has had enough. He just wants to let his feelings be known and then make a dramatic exit, but Vince manages to spoil even that for him. This may not be a bad thing, however.Disclaimer: This is purely for fun. No profit or claims are being made on the original material.





	This Is Difficult For Me To Say

**Author's Note:**

> I said to myself I wouldn't do any Boosh-fic because they have to be one of the hardest fandoms to write for, but here we are.
> 
> There's no explicit sex scene here, but there are a couple of minor references to it. Mainly just in a humorous context.

 

Howard is roused from a nice early night’s sleep by a thrumming, pumping base outside his and Vince’s bedroom. He feels a stab of annoyance that Vince might be trying to develop a song without him, and he hauls himself out of his bed with a groan. He walks over to the door, cracking it ajar only to discover that Vince isn’t writing or practicing, but that he _has_ thrown a party without (a), informing him, or (b), inviting him.

 

As Howard peers groggily through the doorway at all the dancing bodies in his home, he’s met by a couple of disdainful, decorated faces he vaguely recognises as Vince's friends. They scowl at him and he recognises the word ‘loser’ on their mouths, although the sound itself is masked by the awful music.

 

It’s not the first time Vince has failed to include Howard in a night out, but he’s never gone so low as to throw a party _in their flat_ without even telling him. It was probably only a matter of time; Vince has been a complete tit-box of late, and as far as Howard’s concerned it’s the _last straw_.

 

It’s not long before Howard finds the little shit in the crowd; bedecked in some golden, sparkly, fluffy and ridiculous outfit; chatting to some random. It’s all too reminiscent of the awful party Vince threw ‘for Howard’s birthday’ months ago. Howard makes a beeline for him, uncaring that he’s only clad in his white-and-brown striped pyjamas.

 

Reasonably confident that Bollo is out of sight, Howard grabs Vince’s shoulder and spins him around to face him.

 

Vince’s face screws up in his mocking smirk reserved only for Howard, and Howard glares at him.

 

‘Can I have a word?’ Howard growls loudly.

 

‘What?!’ shouts Vince over the din.

 

‘Come here!’

 

Howard frogmarches Vince towards their bedroom. He shoves him through the door perhaps a little too hard, sending him stumbling on his platforms, and he trips and ends up sprawled across Howard’s bed.

 

‘Oof! What the hell, Howard?!’ Vince yells.

 

Howard hesitates, stopping to check he’s okay before shutting the door and turning the key in the lock that they’ve never used. He storms over to stand above Vince, and crosses his arms.

 

‘Well?’ he says, expectantly.

 

‘Well what, you jerk-off?’ groans Vince. ‘You’re keeping me from the party!’

 

‘Oh, yes; the _party_. The party you didn’t think to inform me of? Or invite me to?’

 

Vince sighs.

 

‘Listen, Howard, we both know this isn’t really your kind of thing – ’ he starts, before being cut off.

 

‘Oh, don’t _sigh_ , like it was a difficult decision for you to make!’ growls Howard.

 

‘Hey, listen, this is Naboo’s flat, and _he_ said we could have a party.’

 

‘And you couldn’t even have warned me so I could have spent the evening out?’

 

Vince laughs then.

 

‘Where’d _you_ go out, Howard?’ he says. ‘Even Lester Corncrake sends you home at ten.’

 

Howard stares at him, anger flooding through him as he hears the voices of Naboo, Bollo, Bob Fossil, but most of all, _Vince_ saying what they really mean.

 

_Who would want you around, Howard?_

 

Howard moves around the bed, reaching under it to retrieve his suitcase, only a few weeks empty since his brief acting stint.

 

‘What you doing?’ asks Vince.

 

‘Packing,’ says Howard shortly, as he yanks open a drawer and starts gathering all of his clothes from it.

 

‘Why?’

 

‘Because I hate you, you little prick!’

 

Immediately, the smirk disappears from Vince’s face.

 

‘No you don’t,’ he says quietly.

 

‘Oh, don’t I?’ Howard snorts as he shoves more clothes into the suitcase. ‘Because there’s _so_ much for me to like about you, isn’t there?’

 

Vince reaches up and puts a hand on his arm, stilling him.

 

‘You love me,’ he says softly. ‘You told me.’

 

Howard shakes his head.

 

‘Well, I must have been mad,’ he says. ‘Or drunk.’

 

Vince glares at him for a moment, before he moves to kneel up on the bed.

 

‘Okay,’ he says. ‘Tell me what you hate about me.’

 

‘You want a list?’ asks Howard, frowning at him.

 

‘Yeah, I do.’

 

‘Oh, you want the full list, do you, sir?’

 

‘Yeah, Howard, I want the list.’

 

‘Fine!’ says Howard, pulling said list out of his now-empty underwear drawer. ‘For one thing, Vince, you’re selfish. Not just vain and self-obsessed; _selfish_.’

 

Vince sticks his chin out defiantly.

 

‘Go on,’ he says.

 

‘You’re mean. Not funny or ironic; just _mean_.’

 

‘Yeah?’

 

‘You’re shallow, you’re lazy, and you’re stupid!’

 

Vince was breathing quite heavily now.

 

‘Anything else, Howard?’ he says in a low voice.

 

‘I hate your big bug eyes, and your stupid hair. I hate your glittery _fucking_ outfits.’

 

‘What; you hate my outfits?’

 

‘Oh, yes I do.’

 

‘You want to ruin one?’

 

‘I – What?’

 

Vince grabs the lapel (which isn’t really there because his outfit is shockingly low-cut) of his jumpsuit and holds the pitiful amount of material, already pulled taut over his chest, out to Howard. He nods, a crazed look in his eye as he watches him.

 

‘Go on, I bet you’d love to rip up a few of my clothes, wouldn’t you, Howard?’ he hisses.

 

Howard shakes himself.

 

‘Well, yes, yes I would!’ he snaps.

 

‘Well, then, you should.’

 

‘Well, then I will!’

 

‘Go on, then!’

 

‘Fine, I will!’

 

Vince tugs twice on the fabric and raises an eyebrow at Howard.

 

‘Come on then, you big Jazz-loser!’ he says.

 

Howard blinks, and then he grabs the material just below Vince’s hand, and pulls _hard_.

 

There are a few sharp tearing noises, and Vince’s mouth pops into a little ‘o’ of shock, his eyes wide. The fabric hasn’t actually given fully yet, but Howard can see several little ladders forming in the material. With both hands now, he yanks the suit, crumpling the list as he does, and there’s a ripping noise and Vince is falling forward into him, nearly knocking them both off-balance.

 

Howard catches him, arms winding around his thin frame instinctively.

 

Vince is staring up at him; the lapel of his jumpsuit torn away on one side; one of his pink nipples showing.

 

Howard isn’t sure which of them moves first, but suddenly they’re kissing, and it’s not like it was on his birthday, because he’s not half-frozen in shock and is therefore able to kiss back.

 

They fall back onto the bed together; Howard’s hand sneaking back to the opening of Vince’s jumpsuit, and Vince’s fingers running through Howard’s hair.

 

The noise of the party thumps around them as they remove more clothes, concealing their own noise from the outside world entirely.

 

 

 

Howard wakes up to warmth, and something soft and clean-smelling tickling his nose. He opens his eyes, his nose scrunching up slightly.

 

It’s Vince’s hair. It smells exactly like a hairdresser’s. Vince is curled up, almost _on_ Howard’s chest; head nestled in the crook of his shoulder.

 

Howard swallows; and cranes his neck to observe the damage.

 

The duvet’s covered in glitter, and he can feel the remains of Vince’s outfit under the covers too.

 

As he moves, Vince stirs, and turns his head up to look at him. He beams at him, and then just curls back down, mumbling.

 

‘Mornin’.’

 

‘Morning,’ replies Howard, nervously. ‘Uh, Vince – ?’

 

‘Mm, sleepy,’ says Vince, his voice muffled.

 

Howard gives him a little shake.

 

‘Vince, I think we have to talk.’

 

Vince groans.

 

‘Come on,’ Howard says. ‘We can’t ignore this one.’

 

‘Who’s ignoring?’ yawns Vince, lifting his head. ‘I haven’t pissed off, have I?’

 

‘This is still a big deal, Vince. It needs discussing.’

 

‘All right, what did you want to say?’

 

‘Well, for one thing I’d like to know where we stand. I won’t ever be able to forget what we did last night, and so I’m afraid if you just wanted a one night stand then that’s not going to be good enough for me, sir.’

 

Howard puffs his chest up, readying himself for the fight to start, but Vince just nuzzles his neck.

 

‘I don’t want it to be a one night stand either, Howard,’ Vince says softly.

 

‘Right,’ says Howard stupidly. ‘Well, that’s... good. Glad we got that straightened out, but I think you should know how close we came to this not happening, Vince.’

 

‘Hmm?’

 

‘The thing is, I had intended on a smooth departure. You know; I’ve been thinking about it for a while. I had several drafts of the letter I was going to leave you prepared, although I had been debating on doing a speech instead.’

 

Vince yawns again, cuddling closer as Howard continues.

 

‘I was really going to leave, and then you seduced me and I got all confused, and – ’

 

‘What?’ says Vince suddenly, frowning up at him.

 

Howard looks at him.

 

‘...What is it?’ he asks.

 

‘ _I_ seduced _you_?’

 

‘Yes?’

 

Vince laughs.

 

‘As _if_ I seduced you. You’ve got a wilder imagination than I thought,’ he says.

 

Howard smirks.

 

‘You put the moves on me last night, Vince,’ he says. ‘Oh yes, indeed.’

 

‘No way, Howard; _you_ put the moves on _me_ ,’ says Vince. ‘And it was so _good_ ; you should have done it years ago.’

 

‘Me?’ says Howard, incredulously. ‘Last night was entirely of your own instigation, Vince.’

 

Vince smiles up at him in an irritating kind of way.

 

‘Oh, come on,’ he says. ‘Don’t you remember tearing my clothes off? Which you should consider yourself lucky I won’t sue you for, by the way. That jumpsuit was vintage; do you know how hard I had to fight for that thing? I had to lie on the floor in Topshop, curled up around it like a pastry. The girl on the till had to scan and bag me up with it.’

 

Howard shakes his head, raising a hand.

 

‘I believe I was persuaded by _you_ into this, sir,’ he says.

 

‘You were the mastermind here, Howard, you always are,’ whispers Vince.

 

Howard blinks, thrown off slightly.

 

‘Well, yes, yes I am, but – ’

 

Vince sits up then, stopping Howard’s rambling; his blue eyes huge and bright as they stare down at him.

 

‘You kidnapped me from my party and took me on this bed like a beast,’ he says lowly.

 

‘No, no; you _coerced_ me into all of that.’

 

‘I was at your mercy, Howard; I was _helpless_.’ Vince says, and then he shrugs, grinning. ‘But not unhappy.’

 

‘I just wanted a decent night’s sleep,’ Howard says weakly.

 

‘Look at the state of me, Howard. I’ve clearly been ravished.’

 

Vince extends his arms slightly, showing off his naked, still rather glittered body. His skin’s covered in bite marks and some bruises in areas, and his mouth is very pink; his hair genuinely unkempt rather than stylishly tousled. He’s beautiful.

 

‘Well, yes,’ Howard awkwardly agrees, ‘but when I came up to you last night it wasn’t my purpose to interfere with you. You _insisted_ that I remove your clothes, remember?’

 

Vince scoffs, rolling his eyes.

 

‘Fine then, let’s look at _you_.’ he says. ‘You look about ready to go another five rounds and then go kneel on an alligator’s windpipe before coming back to your caveman nest for more.’

 

‘ _Nest_?’

 

‘Or hammock – whatever they sleep in, my point is, Howard, if you look in that mirror, you'll get what I'm saying.’

 

He gestures to the full-length mirror on the inside of the open wardrobe door.

 

Howard can kind of see what Vince means. He looks far more bedraggled than usual with some bruises, bites and scratches of his own, and there’s a hint of smug pride in his reflection’s beady eyes. Vince looks tiny and pale next to him; an almost holy image of man in comparison to Howard. He winces.

 

‘I didn’t hurt you, did I?’ he asks.

 

‘Nah, nothing I can’t handle,’ says Vince.

 

Look, I’ll – I’ll buy you a new jumpsuit,’ Howard says, turning back to him. ‘It’s the least I can do.’

 

‘What, after all the bumming?’ says Vince, laughing.

 

Howard chokes slightly on his next words.

 

‘Erm, well I...’

 

‘And the spanking?’

 

‘Woah, there!’

 

Howard puts a hand out as if to stop him, and Vince just chuckles again.

 

‘What d’you mean, “woah there”? You were the one doing it, Howard. You were the _giver_ ,’ says Vince.

 

‘Some things still don’t need to be verbalised, Little Man,’ says Howard, his face burning as Vince continues laughing.

 

‘Fancy _you_ saying “woah, there”. After all the things you called me last night – ’

 

‘I didn’t mean them _disrespectfully_ or anything, though, all right?’

 

‘You were calling me your dirty little vixen. You said you wanted to lick Bovril off me and make me a proper dinner.’

 

‘ – I was caught up in the moment, you know?’ says Howard, looking at his hands.

 

‘Why you getting all shy now?’ asks Vince, tilting his head to try and make eye contact. ‘You’re the one who wants to bake me a shepherd’s pie, you filth-monkey.’

 

Howard can’t help it, then; he laughs.

 

‘What can I say? Beneath this harsh, rugged, caveman exterior there’s a sensitive side to me that just wants to protect my mate.’

 

Vince stops laughing then, although he’s still grinning from ear to ear. He seems touched by Howard’s words and reaches to stroke the skin and hairs on Howard’s chest.

 

‘I’d love a new jumpsuit,’ he says softly, after a while.

 

‘You’d just love presents,’ Howard replies.

 

‘Yeah, but I’ve always loved them _more_ when they’re from you. You’ve always been awful at holidays and events planning, but you’re a genius gift-giver.’

 

‘All right. I’ll take you shopping by way of apology.’

 

‘For the bumming?’

 

‘ _No_ , for the jumpsuit. And – for what I said to you, before. I don't hate you. Even when you're being a little shit and goading me into ripping jumpsuits and bumming you.’

 

‘That is _not_ true!’ says Vince, looking shocked. ‘I thought we’d just said you were the decider.’

 

‘We established no such thing, Vince.’

 

A sharp knock at the door interrupts them both.

 

 _‘Vince, are you in there?’_ comes Naboo’s voice.

 

Howard immediately moves to cover the pair of them with the duvet, blushing furiously.

 

‘Yeah!’ calls Vince, giggling at Howard’s actions.

 

_‘Where the hell were you last night; you were missed, you know?’_

‘Aw, I’m sorry, Naboo!’

 

_‘Well, where were you?’_

‘I was in here with Howard!’

 

‘Yeah!’ says Howard dryly. ‘Remember me; Howard Moon?’

 

Silence follows.

 

‘Anyway, Naboo, did you need us for anything?’ Vince calls after a minute.

 

 _‘Not particularly; flat needs a clean at some point,’_ says Naboo. _‘What are you guys doing?’_

‘Oh, well, we had sex last night, and we were just trying to prove who seduced who. Howard thinks _I_ seduced _him_ , see?’

 

There’s another few second’s silence, during which Howard glares at Vince in horror and gets very red in the face, before an answer comes.

 

 _‘Not very likely, is it?’_ drawls Naboo.

 

‘What?!’ Howard yelps. ‘That’s what _happened_!’

 

 **‘That’s ridiculous,’** comes Bollo’s voice through the door. **‘Precious Vince would never chase around after Harold.’**

‘Right!’ says Howard, fuming. ‘My name is _Howard_ , and I have been chased around many a time before, I’ll have you all know!’

**‘Vince is treasure. Harold is troll.’**

 

Howard is about to call Bollo something that would definitely get his arms ripped out of their sockets, when Vince puts a hand on his arm.

 

‘We’ll talk to you guys in a bit, yeah?’ Vince says to the door. ‘We need to get showered and everything now.’

 

 _‘All right,’_ says Naboo, and he’s quiet for a moment so they think he’s gone, but then he speaks again. _‘By the way, Vince, cheers for getting the party going last night, I know I kind of sprung it on you at the last minute.’_

‘That’s all right, Naboo; it was no trouble, yeah?’

 

_‘Maybe next time let us know you won’t be there for the whole night? Not that I’m complaining; everyone went crazy over your little disappearing act.’_

 

‘That wasn’t exactly my fault, though, yeah? I was whisked away!’ says Vince, ‘It was against my will and everything! It was genius.’

 

 _‘Don’t tell me anything else,’_ says Naboo, sounding pained. They hear him walk off.

 

Howard stares at Vince, who’s sitting there, suddenly looking quite shy.

 

‘Wait, last night – that _wasn’t_ your party?’ Howard asks.

 

‘Nah,’ says Vince casually.

 

‘But, I thought...’

 

‘I wouldn’t have done that. Well, maybe I _would_ , but things have been so bad between us, and when you went away to do the crab commercial I knew it wouldn’t work out, but I’d already found all your drafted letters... I thought maybe you really wouldn’t come back. Naboo only hired Adam to try and wean me off your image.’

 

Howard reaches to grab Vince’s hand.

 

‘But if it wasn’t your party why didn’t you say anything?’ he asks.

 

Vince squeezes his hand back.

 

‘Well, I was gonna wake you up when I came in to get ready, but you looked so peaceful I didn’t have the heart to,’ he says. ‘I know you like your early nights, and I was hoping you might just sleep through the whole thing, but then you came and stole me away, and took all my clothes off.’

 

Howard opens his mouth to argue, but then, staring into those huge eyes, he closes it again, shaking his head.

 

‘I did, didn’t I?’ he says.

 

Vince looks surprised for a moment, before he smiles delightedly.

 

‘You really did, you big Northern brute,’ he says.

 

‘Oh, and you liked it, did you?’ Howard asks him, winding an arm around Vince’s back and pulling him closer.

 

Vince leans into him, and presses a kiss to his mouth.

 

‘Yeah, I really did,’ he says softly.

 

‘Well, Little Man, you want it again?’

 

‘And after we’ll go shopping?’ asks Vince excitedly. ‘And then come back and do it even more?’

 

‘Of course,’ says Howard, grinning at him.

 

Vince beams, before falling into Howard’s arms in the perfect swoon.

 

Later, as Howard stands outside one of the changing rooms in Topshop, clutching a teetering pile of clothes he’s not sure if Vince is keeping or buying, and getting dirty looks from the people (mostly women) in there, he reflects that Vince must have _wanted_ to be seduced by him, maybe for a long time before now.

 

He finds himself surprisingly unafraid of the change they’ve made to their relationship. Perhaps it’s because things had already been so awful, and he knows now that they both want to leave all of that in the past. Maybe it’s because this is what they’ve both wanted for years, possibly since the beginning.

 

The curtain of Vince’s booth whips open and Vince is standing there, in a tiny top and skinny jeans that are certainly not a jumpsuit, and eyeliner that Howard could have sworn he wasn’t wearing when they came in. Howard doesn’t understand how or why, but he looks incredible. Vince is eyeing him with a look that tells Howard he knows what he’s thinking.

 

‘Shall we go to the till now?’ says Howard huskily.

 

And they’d better, because otherwise they’re bound to start doing things that will get them banned from the store, and then Vince will probably break up with him.

 

As they leave the shop, hand in hand and laden with shopping, they joke and crimp as loud as they dare. Vince doesn’t seem embarrassed to be seen with him, and Howard is not uncomfortable with their proximity and touching.

 

Howard’s happy; really happy, and he knows just by looking, that Vince is too. He decides that if Vince wants to believe that he knowingly went out into the party to bring him back to bed for sex; or that that is truly how he imagines last night’s events went (and if it makes him this happy) then that’s all right with him.

 

He is Howard Moon; Man of Action, after all.


End file.
